Pantomime Time

Pantomime is one of those things that people either love or hate. I fall into the latter camp. I'm not averse to pantomime in its original grass-roots form, derived from ancient mid-winter mummery, in turn derived from the Roman feast of Saturnalia, a time when the tables of normality were subverted, with slaves being waited upon by their masters at heady feasts that could normally last for days. This glorious subversion cascaded through the ages, transformed and transmogrified into our own lampooning of politics and popular culture - which is why I would rather see Mother Goose at our local church hall, than the slick and sanitised Dick Whittington, starring Dame Edna, at the New Wimbledon Theatre.
In the days when pantomime was the realm of strolling players that were ever outside society, the pantomimic vehicle was a delightfully dark way of looking at the mores of the time. But the most popular entertainers are no ways 'outside', any more. Instead, they are hand in pocket with the politicians, the royalty and other famous people that they once effectively sent up. In short, celebrity-led panto just doesn't 'do it' for me. True panto is deliciously dark and sweetly subversive, affording a refreshing look at all of the 'rules', of driving a wedge into a society that is rotting in its own corrosive stasis. It is also gloriously entertaining, which is why I'll be going to the church hall...

The Eternal Triangle...

Geometrically, a triangle is a plane figure bounded by three sides, with three internal angles. At school, we learned there were three types of triangle. The scalene has three sides of unequal length, the isosceles has two equal sides and the equilateral has its three sides and internal angles, equal. Later on, we learned about love triangles, the Bermuda triangle, and the eternal triangle. Always, there is a magical association with the number three. The triangle crops up in nature, mainly as wedges of broken ice. A hunk of matter must have at least three corners, you see, and the triangle is a dead cert.
I learned to love Toblerone, that rather classy chocolate bar that I always associate with airports – though it can be bought in any supermarket or grocer. I still remember their advertising jingle from the 1970s or 1980s; something about a land with triangular bees, and triangular trees, and oh, Mr Confectioner, please…http://www.toblerone.co.uk/toblerone1/page?siteid=toblerone1-prd&locale=uken1&Mid=586&PagecRef=628

Vital Vidal and brand Sassoon...

Just recently, maestro hairdresser Vidal Sassoon was on television, talking about his life, work and products. When he mentioned the latter, I cheered and punched the air. Many posts ago, I wrote about an extraordinary VS hairdryer that I had bought in 2002 for £12.99 and that was/is still going strong; 1800 watts, folding handle, 2 heat/speed settings, worldwide dual voltage, and cool shot button. My only issues with Brand Sassoon are his prescribed hairstyles. In short, I just haven’t got the jaw line for a full-on ‘geometric’.
I can take Vidal’s line about the influence of modern art and the Bauhaus in his craft – how could I not? Witness the photo of me at that hallowed, Dessau location, c. 2001. Mondrian, Gehry, Foster; I worship them all. But a gal has to be built along modernist lines to walk the walk of Shrimpton, Hornby, Farrow, et al. Interestingly, Sassoon did for female hair in the 1960s what Coco Chanel did for female clothing in the 1920s. Her response to the emerging machine aesthetic was the cloche, a hat devoid of ornamentation that followed the line of the human head. But a gal could still whip off her cloche to reveal the fluffy, Marcel bob underneath – and I now bow my fluffy, unruly mop to these geniuses of hair, clothing and architecture.